The Rebel midfielder was moving up the field with the ball in his hands and she could tell that he was looking to pass. Her sixth sense, Limmie sense, told her it was going to happen. She knew it for a certainty like she knew that she had red hair. And she was going to be damned if she didn't stop him. Alana launched herself in front of the punt that would send the ball sailing down field and to his front six.

And, as it had four times previously in the game, Alana didn't.

The player held up and Alana thumped into the turf in front of him, sliding across the slick pitch, wet from the light rain that had been coming down all game long. As Alana skidded away, the Rebel calmly and precisely kicked the ball downfield where one of his corner forwards snagged it.

Disgusted, Alana picked herself up and got back in the play. To say this hadn't been her day had been an understatement. One would have thought that with the high score that the Miners' captain would have had some part in it. The truth was that Alana had been held scoreless. She'd missed five place kicks today for points over the bar and had been completely unable to penetrate down low today. The Rebels had her number offensively. The only reason that Bakura was up 32-30 right now in the waning minutes was because Aron Rodders was absolutely owning at the Full Forward position. Last season hadn't been an anomaly--it had been the beginning of something beautiful. Rodders was two goals and three points into an absolute tear. Stormborn was benefiting from this as when Rodders got double teamed she was open and was scorching the Rebel keeper for three goals. Corrie was on fire too with a pair of goals and a point herself. It was an absolute offensive rout.

Of course, the Rebels had done their homework and the rookie defenders for the Miners were getting absolutely hammered. Wizmark and Waters, the "Wonderful Ws" the media had dubbed them during training camp, had been targeted all day long and had surrendered big plays to the more experienced Rebel attackers. Despite the fact that there were more experienced options on the bench, Valerii had kept her rooks in the game. Indeed, Valerii had spent most of the game sitting and observing in her sharply cut pant suit. Occasionally she stood and paced with the action, rarely saying anything but watching with the gaze of a cliff hawk. Every time Alana looked over it felt like her former position coach had pulled her out of the crowd and was boring into her. Maybe it was just coincidence, but Alana got the impression that Valerii was less than pleased with her output today.

Alana wouldn't blame her. She'd played terrible. Shut out offensively, utterly outplayed on the defensive side of the ball, Alana was turning in one of her worst games to date. And yet she'd had a good solid camp, no complaints out of the coaching staff. She'd felt good about what she'd done there, but she was royally screwing up at everything she did today.

And once again Waters got beat for a point over the bar. 31-32 Miners. Delphy kicked the ball out of the defensive zone. Under a minute left--all they had to do was play keep away from the Rebels. The ball was arcing to midfield and Alana stepped up to catch it and send it deep--but a Rebel jumped in front of her from the right and caught the ball for an interception. Alana tackled him, but not before the ball was already passed off to one of his comrades. It was easy work for a point over the bar and then they were tied with time expired.

The referees gathered at midfield. A tie in a friendly game? What to do, what to do. Alana went over in her capacity as captain.

"You guys want to keep going?" one of the refs asked Alana and her Corellian counterpart.

"I'm game," the Rebel captain said, "You?"

"Damn straight," Alana said.

"All right, we'll kick off in a few minutes here," the referee confirmed.

As the ref communicated all this to the delight of the fans, Alana jogged back to the Miner sideline where Valerii had gathered the entire team, reserves and starters. "What's the word?" Valerii asked Alana.

"They asked if we wanted to call it. I said no," Alana reported, "So did they."

"Good girl," Valerii said, "We're not going to accept a tie. We're gonna win this game. I need everything from you guys. This is where it counts, where you find out what you've really got inside of you. And I mean everybody." Valerii looked at Wizmark. "I know this game has been hard for you, but you can't give up now. This isn't the Bak10 anymore. This is the show. You listening to me, Wiz?"

"Yeah Coach yeah," Nelly said with a nod of her head, which sent drops of sweat flying.

"You guys know what to do," Valerii said, clapping her hands to break up the meeting, "Let's go guys."

The overtime period was more of the same--fast and furious. The rookies were being picked apart. The Miner front three kept showing up the Rebel defense. And Alana was outplayed and outclassed--so much so that after one missed tackle she pounded her fist into the turf in frustration. And even more to the point, they were tied--again--after the overtime. The refs called the captains together again.

"Okay...what do you guys want to do now?"

"We didn't just do all that to give up now," Alana said, "I'll go as long as it takes."

"Agreed, but at least I'm better than a pylon out there, Red," the Rebel captain said.

"Shut the fr--"

The ref stepped in between Alana and the Rebel. "Let's keep our heads here. You--" to the Rebel captain, "--get back over there. And you--" to Alana, "--watch it. I'll toss you for unsportsmanlike conduct."

Alana just glowered at the ref but moved off silently, chastened. Back at the Miner sideline, the team was gathered again, but things had deteriorated since the last break.

"I can't do it! I can't do it! I can't stop them!" Wizmark babbled.

"Nelly! Nelly! Listen to me!" Valerii was saying. She'd taken the rookie's face in her hands to try and calm her down. It wasn't doing anything so Valerii shook Wizmark, which seemed to have some effect. "I just need 15 more minutes out of you. Hold them for 15 minutes and we're going to win this. You have got to pull yourself together. Nelly. Are you listening?" Valerii snapped her fingers in front of Wizmark's eyes to bring her back around.

"Yeah, yeah," Nelly said.

"You're playing in double overtime in your first game as a Miner. Do you know how many other beings in this galaxy can say that?" Valerii said, "One and she's standing next to you." The being in question was Abbey Waters. "Fifteen minutes, I swear. Fifteen minutes more. Got it?"

Wizmark nodded, but there was still a look in her eyes. Valerii looked at Adanna Inviere and in a moment it seemed that they shared some telepathic conversation. Inviere immediately took over for Valerii in handling the shell shocked rookie, who turned to her offense.

"Guys, you've been lights out all night, but you need to finish this right now. We can't go another overtime," Gaeriel said, "You've got to keep it up. I know we're going into uncharted territory here but you've got to close the deal."

"We've got it," Aron said. His front six teammates were nodding. They were solid.

"Red," Valerii said, turning her eyes to her captain, "This has been a bad night for you, but I need more. I need you to get out of this funk. We need you now. You're the difference here."

"I know. I got it," Alana said.

Valerii patted Glencross on the shoulder. "Let's do this guys."

The Rebels pushed the envelope in the second overtime and jumped out to an early lead in the overtime. And once again Alana seemed ineffectual to stop their charge. With every play she grew more determined to make an impact and every time it seemed that she only did worse. Her frustration mounted with every failed attempt to stop the Rebels. It was just after one such miss that the boloball went to the Rebel half forward line where they'd been able to exploit the Miners all day long--especially on Wizmark's side. Just a point over the bar would likely put the game out of range for the Miners now.

The Rebel attacker cleanly fielded the ball and made a side step to the middle of the field and--

BAM!

Wizmark laid him out before he knew what was coming and punched the ball out, getting one of the biggest roars out of the crowd since the start of overtime. T.K. recovered the ball and slung it up the field. Landa made a beautiful running one handed catch and took two steps before sending it to a wide open Rodders, who hooked it into the back of the net for a go ahead goal and three seconds later the buzzer sounded. Rodders gave a yell of victory and found Anderson and Stormborn piling onto him, closely followed by the rest of the team. Alana was among them and while she was thrilled to come away with a win after such a tight, exciting game, there was something that burned inside of her after such poor play. This win just didn't feel like the others.

Head coach's office, Miners offices, Salis D'aar, BakuraThe next day

"Red was terrible," Valerii said bluntly.

She had Han Tunross in her office explicitly to talk about Glencross's performance. It was as private a meeting as they could have. If the media, which had already noted that Alana had performed poorly, heard that the new head coach was concerned about Alana's play it could fan the flames, something that nobody wanted right now.

"You're sure she's not got any injuries to explain it?" Valerii asked with a sigh.

"Nothing. Her last physical had her in impeccable shape," Han said.

"What about the shoulder? She injured it in 269."

"Strained it and it looks perfect," Han said, "That's mended."

"Then why is my captain performing like poodoo?" Gaeriel said, clenching her fist, "We're not going to win a championship like this. I need her. We should have crushed the Rebels. Instead we had to go to double overtime with them."

"Can I ask you something Gaeriel? Why keep Abbey and Nelly in? They were clearly outmatched."

"Only way they're going to learn Han, and better now than in Week 1, where we need to win and I need a 100% Glencross," Gaeriel said.

"Well, there is one thing. You might not like it though," Han said reluctantly.

"If it can help me get Alana back on track, then I don't care how much I don't like it," Gaeriel said.

"There's a possibility there is a problem, but not a physical one," Han said.

"What do you mean not a physical one? What other kind is there?" Gaeriel demanded.

"This might be a...mental problem."

Valerii leaned in. "Are you saying Alana's gone off the deep end?"

"No no no," Han said quickly, "But I'm wondering if she should see a colleague of mine."

Later that day

"A psychologist?!" Alana shouted, "Are you kidding me?"

"No, we're not," Tunross said calmly. He'd been prepared for this reaction and had told Valerii to expect it. "We think that there's something going on, something you don't even know about that's affecting your game and we want to get it taken care of."

"This is insane. I am not crazy," Alana insisted.

"Nobody's said that you are," Gaeriel said, "Just trust us that this is going to be good for you."

"Or what?" Alana demanded.

"Or you don't play," Gaeriel said, "And if you don't play, you don't get paid."

Alana's jaw dropped. "Excuse me? You're going to renege on my new contract just like that?" She snapped her fingers. "If I take this to the media they are going to destroy this team. Do you want that?"

"Do you want that?" Gaeriel shot back, but calmly.

"Cundertol will never go for this. Never," Alana said, trying to find a new angle to fight this.

"He agrees with me that this is a player health issue and therefore under my purview," Han said, "If I feel you're not fit to play, you don't play."

"He also said to tell you, 'Think about the optics,'" Gaeriel added.

Alana stood there and stewed. They were right. It would look bad if any of this got out. And if she sat out due to being unwilling to go further with this...it was going to look very bad indeed, especially for her. In fact, she might never play Limmie again if anyone found out she was having "mental issues", even if it was patently untrue, which it was.

There was only one option. "So I do this and..."

"...and you keep playing and this is all kept completely confidential. Nobody will know," Han reassured her.

"Fine," Alana said testily, "When do I get this over with?"

Tunross held up a piece of flimsi. "I've made your first appointment for you. She's a colleague of mine and I trust her."

Alana snatched the flimsi, turned on her heel, and left. She'd bang this out in a couple sessions. She'd show them there was nothing wrong with her. She was Alana Glencross.

With all the fundraising, public appearances and all the other crap the team was forced to do in the off-season, they took the last couple weeks to actually kick back and relax. But now they were back to practicing.

It had been announced that the Chiefs pulled their top prospects Jinn Cregg and Ike Arooz-Yoni up from their farm team the Kashyyyk Rangers, replacing Qatak Lemieux and Hanrahan as Goalkeeper and Left Half Forward. Qatak and Hanrahan were put on reserves.

With fresh blood on the team, new cheerleaders and an uncertain future financially, the Chiefs were prepared for another season of Limmie.

Finally the season was upon them. Sure, this was technically still a pre-season game, but to the fans filling the massive stadium, to the players on the field taking and dishing out vicious hits and to the staff from the lowliest droid janitor to the owner of the team; once games started it all felt so much more real. The off-season had been an interesting one. The addition of the first year player draft to the mix had helped spur on a change of philosophy within the Mercs organization. It was clear now that there would be aruetii players on the team, and even though the Mercs had not drafted any, they flung themselves into the that future with all the full vigor of any Mandalorian enterprise.

To acomplish this, the Mercs had been extremely aggressive on the free agent market. Something they had never done before. Undrafted aruetii rookiees had been signed, college players passed over by the other teams of the ELL quickly scooped up while the other teams were concerned with the draft. Likewise aging veterans, perhaps contemplating the end of their careers, were given one last shot at Elite level meshgeroya. A chance, maybe even their last one, for a true winner. They had all been placed on the "second team" along with a two new Mandalorian players, both rookiees themselves. It made for a group of reserves all playing hard to prove themselves in some way and it was clear that there was a competition amongst them and their "first team" counterparts throughout training camp.

In truth of course there had not been much competition, and no aruetii had cracked the starting lineup. The closest any new player had come was the new rookiee goaltender, Mij Katan, who had pushed Kii Skirata to the brink. But in the end the ELL game was just too fast to entrust the goal to such a young player, and Skirata had used her vertan know how to hang on to her job. For now. Taab had been involeved in that and every other decision, making his own opinions known but allowing coach Kal the final say regarding on the field matters. Still it bode well that they seemed to be on the same page, though Taab would have perhaps given Kii Skirata a shorter leash than the head coach. It would be interesting to see who the starting goalkeeper would be at the end of the season.

But first was this, a pre-season game against the Waves. The Kaminoans had pushed hard for the matchup, and Taab was happy to oblige them so long as the game was held here. It should be a good matchup, there was perhaps no PLL team closer to the level of ELL competition than the Waves. Still the Kaminoans were a notoriously xenophobic species and the team travelled poorly in terms of attendance. The few that had made the journey to manda'yaim were openly in awe of the Nulls as they took to the field for the dha werda verda.

The mostly Mandalorian crowd of course went wild as the ancient chant began, but Taab focused his attention on the players on the bench. Only the starters were allowed the honor of performing the dha werda verda and the reactions of those not on the field were fascinating to behold. First was the old veterans, they had seen it before, though always as opponents never as a member of the team. Still they put off an air of having been there and done that. They smiled and spoke to one another throughout, though they never once appeared disrespectful to their team mates.

The aruetii rookiees were another story entirely. They were just as enraptured as ther Kaminoans were. They had never seen this in person, nor had most of them ever played in a stadium so large. The noise would have been deafening to them on the sidelines. Taab wondered if any of these aruetiise would perform the chant if they ever made it to starter status. It was something that had not been discussed amongst he the GM and the coach. It was assumed that they would simply cross that bridge when they came to it, if ever. But still for Taab the question lingered.

Which brought his attention to the two mandalorian players on the bench. Katan who had come so close to unseating Skirata and Mor'kesh the midfielder from Chandrila A&M. Both of them watched the chanting and plate thumping without bothering to hide the burning desire in their eyes. Yes they were a part of the team, but for now they were still on "team aruetii", the moniker bestowed upon the second unit by Taab himself. Someday perhaps they would be good enough to make good on their wants. But not today.

The game itself was fairly unremarkable. The Mercs were clearly the better team from the start and it showed. What was different was the substitutions and how they were made. Waiting for a stoppage in play, the Mercs would replace either the entire defensive or offensive units at a time. There was no mixing and matching of first and second teams. Typically the second unit would only play for a few minutes at a time before being replaced by the first team once again. Naturally it was during those short spurts that the team from Kamino made the most waves. But that wasn't so much an issue of talent as far as Taab could see (though there was certainly a drop off) but rather due to the reserves not yet used to playing together yet. It was a new style for all concerned, but it had potential as a change of pace that affected how the Waves played against the Mercs and knocked them from their own game plan. As the final whistle blew the Mercs had come away as victors, Taab only hoped that the rest of the season played out in a similar fashion.

IC: Marte NaloLocation: HSN Euceron studio, Eusebus, EuceronTime: Two days before Week 1 home game against Smugglers

Five minutes to go before SportsCenter was scheduled to start, but the zoomball game currently on was tied with 22 seconds to go. Overtime would push the news show back. Marte took his eyes off the monitor for a moment and reviewed his notes. Most of them were about limmie, what with the season's opening day just two days away. Injury reports, weather reports, draft holdouts finally signing at the last minute, that kind of thing.

Thankfully the Storm were mostly injury-free at the moment. Lann Helkin had sprained his ankle in training camp, but that was two weeks ago; he was listed as probable for the Smugglers game, and head coach Haron Orus had publicly stated that Lann was "one hundred and ten percent". Other than that, the Storm side of the injury report was empty.

Marte started to take another look at the weather, but was distracted by a loud cheer from the monitor. He looked up just as the cheer died suddenly; the home team had very nearly scored, but the road team had been able to stop them as time expired. This one was headed to sudden death overtime, which meant Marte had some extra time before SportsCenter started—but he had no way of knowing how much time and would have less than a minute's notice when the game ended. Marte made a quick run to the refresher and then returned to the studio.

He picked up his datapad to get the current weather. Thankfully, the Smugglers game would not be a repeat of last year's Miners game. Yes, it would be cold—in fact, it would be just barely above freezing—but the forecast also called for sunny skies and little to no wind with no precipitation. The long-term forecast called for light jacket weather and a chance of rain for the Week 2 contest against the Mercs. Week 3 was too far out to get a reasonably accurate forecast, but the historical average temperature for that day was 15°C*, so winter weather was unlikely.

Marte took a moment to reflect back on the friendly game against the Vornskrs two weeks earlier, which had seen light but steady snowfall, requiring the grounds crew to clear a couple centimeters of snow off the field at halftime. By this time next year, weather would no longer be an issue, as the retractable roof would be completed by then. For now, though, it sat half finished, construction workers unable to continue work during the season. The portion that was complete would provide a sun shield for late afternoon and evening games and could create some interesting situations with shadows on the field, but it offered no protection against the weather yet.

He checked on the zoomball game again to find that play had stopped for an injured player, and they were bringing the ambulance speeder directly out onto the field, which was highly unusual. Marte put his notes down and watched for about ten minutes as paramedics treated him, then loaded him into the ambulance. The player, from the road team, managed to give a brief wave as they did so, drawing a round of respectful applause from the home crowd. Hopefully he'll be OK, thought Marte.

Going back to his notes as the game resumed, Marte noted that the Storm's draft selections had finally signed contracts earlier this afternoon. All three had been holding out for more money, which had arguably cost the Storm their friendly game. The Storm had been preparing to start the season without them, but their backups were not quite ready for starting duties. Even so, Marte had been astonished when Haron had immediately announced that all three would start against the Smugglers. Marte, as Haron's immediate predecessor in the head coach position, had to question that decision. Sure, the rookies had more raw talent than the backups, but how well would they be able to work with their teammates with just one or two days of practice before the game? At any rate, it would be interesting to watch.

The zoomball game dragged on and on, neither team able to break free. There was no mechanism for ending the game in a tie, as it was a playoff game and a clear winner was required. Finally, the director stepped in. "Pack up and head home," he told Marte. "Even if the game ended now, we can't do a proper SportsCenter in the less than ten minutes that we have before the night game."

Marte acknowledged him and headed home. He was off tomorrow and then would be calling the game the next day. He pulled into his garage and collected his two kids as they ran to him. It was hard to believe Tendra had just turned twelve earlier in the week, and Jado was growing fast, already the size of the average ten-year-old despite being just seven. Time was flying fast, and his duties as a broadcaster were beginning to take up nearly as much time as being the Storm's head coach had done. He was seriously considering quitting the broadcasting job and just going into full retirement; he would need to talk to Jaria about it. They certainly had enough money to do it. For now though, he would take it a day at a time and see what life held.

Gark strode down the sidewalk, not really paying attention to the speeders whizzing by on the road or the few passerby whom he passed on the way. His sights were set on the yellow house on the left near the end of the block, and everything else just seemed to melt into oblivion in front of his eyes. This was something that he knew he had to do. Surely he should be on Wroona right now getting ready for the upcoming season with the Islanders. And that pesky pre-season league press conference was coming up as well; Gark really didn’t care for those kinds of events, which they didn’t have in the Elite League. Smaller leagues try to get attention through those kinds of ways, and he wanted none of it. But he would have to buck up and go anyways, so it didn’t matter if he would like it or not. But this mission here came first. And, frankly, this was more important to him.

When he came to the front porch, Gark made sure to slick his mane back a little bit. Those pesky hairs that always stuck up were acting out again, and he was trying to retain somewhat of a clean appearance. But he finally just gave up, because it would be too much trouble to get them nice and neat now. Besides, he didn’t have a lot of time to be here anyways, so he had to get moving. He reached for the doorbell and pressed it once. A small jingle sounded inside the house.

Seconds passed, and Gark was getting the feeling that he had come here for naught. He turned to go, the cold feeling of disappointment washing over him as he rotated. Then, a voice came from inside. “Who is it?” Then the door swung open.

Gark turned and shrugged. That’s all that needed to be said. Staring back at him was his sister Ryal. The siblings stared at each other for a few seconds, nothing said between the two of them.

“Hi,” Gark said meekly. He wasn’t quite sure what to say in this instance, because he hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Then, before he could say anything else, he was wrapped up in a tight hug from Ryal, and it took him a few split-seconds to realize what was going on.

“I am so, so sorry,” Ryal repeated as she hugged her big brother. “I . . . didn’t know . . . where to go . . . the media . . . they said all kinds of things . . . and I believed them . . . I was so blinded by them . . .”

“It’s all right,” Gark said. “I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.”

“But . . . I was so . . . rude when you last . . . called . . . I’m a terrible person . . .” Ryal continued, sobbing now. Gark could feel her tears hitting his fur, making some wet spots on it.

“No you aren’t,” Gark said firmly. But his sister seemed inconsolable, so he went to another plan. “You know, I’m sorry about all this too. I never intended to have that happen; I wasn’t strong enough to fight back. Mornd fooled both of us. But a wise man once told me that I had nothing to be ashamed of, and that I could pull through, despite everything that had transpired. I did, and you can too. Just forget about the past, and move on, because it won’t do either of us any good to keep that regret for the rest of our lives.”

Ryal released him and looked into Gark’s eyes with a somewhat-depressed looking expression. Nothing was said in this instance.

“I have to get going,” Gark said. “The life of a coach isn’t easy, and I’ve got to be somewhere tomorrow for a press conference. I wish I could stay, but I can’t. It was good seeing you again.”

“Wait,” Ryal said, stopping Gark before he could leave. “I take back what I said last time. Can you forgive me for that?”

“Yes, I can,” Gark said. Then the two siblings embraced again. It felt good to finally have that gundark off his shoulders, Gark thought. Now, with a clearer conscience, he was ready to tackle the upcoming Limmie season.

TAG: No One IC: Jayla Leed

Raltiir

Jayla entered the friendly game of the Thyferra Force against the Raltiir Starkillers with a wave of other subs in the second half. The game had so far been rather easy, as Kapp Pyston, the starting goalie, had prevented Raltiir from scoring many times. It was obvious to onlookers to know that he was a good player . . . and the better he played, the harder Jayla knew it would be to unseat him. When she settled in at goal, she stared at her defensive alignment. Baul Sdent, the hulking Herglic full back, settled in almost directly in front of her. Jayla frowned; it was going to be difficult to see through the mammoth defensive back when she needed to stay light on her toes. What a challenge for her first game.

When Raltiir came up the field the first time, Jayla knuckled down and prepared herself to lunge out for the ball. Former Senator forward Narvals, now playing for the Starkillers, passed the ball to a teammate and then ran towards the goal. Receiving a pass back, he kicked it at the goal. What an odd move for a guy who never looked to score. Jayla jumped out and punched at the ball, but all she got was air. The ball hit the back of the net for a Raltiir goal. Jayla yelled out in frustration; she had gotten beat again. Every time she did this, she dug her hole a little deeper in her competition with Pyston. It was going to be almost impossible to beat him now. Bench, here she came.

On the next possession, Jayla jumped out to intercept a ball. But her foot got stuck in the turf too much, and she hit the ground hard. The ball missed the goal wide left, but as Jayla stood, she could feel some soreness in her leg. She must have pulled something on that dive. Staggering around a little, she bent over and began to rub her leg. It felt like a hamstring pull; when things couldn’t get any worse, they did. Wyley came over.

“You OK?” the Hapan asked.

“I pulled something,” Jayla said, not looking up.

Although it ended up not costing them in the end, Jayla finished the game knowing that her injury here had just cost her any last-ditch chance she had at capturing that starting goalie spot. Pyston had won out, and now Jayla could only stew on the bench while her injury healed. What a crappy way to end your first exhibition game as a professional. When she got to the locker room, Jayla smashed her fist into her locker. This was tougher than college was, and no matter what she did, nothing seemed to work.

Qorbus never imagined the ELL would be like this. Hit after hit, score after score, it was a continuous barrage of toughness.

He had learned very early within the first week of his practices with the Rough Riders, who he had gathered alot of respect for, to swallow his. His first thought coming in right after the draft was that it would be easy squeeze especially since he was the Helmsman Trophy winner. Boy was he wrong.

Every day in practice he just couldn't find a way past the fifth year goalkeeper of Zeke Barbosa. One time Qorbus had received the ball from his teams defenders during a scrimmage in practice and ended up on a fast break beating every single defender. He was dribbling coming up fast on Barbosa trying all the moves he had in his book, but nothing seemed to work to shake him. Finally Qorbus took the shot and it looked like a clean shot making it look like he'd finally beaten him. Then out of nowhere Zeke jumps in blocking the shot making Qorbus look like an idiot.

"Nice block Barbosa. Come on Qorbus we didn't draft you to make shots like that", came the voice of Mothker, the Riders head coach.

It was the second half of the exhibition friendly game against the Naboo Ducks, technically Qorbus' first taste of ELL action, and the game was tied 17-17 with about 4 minutes left in the game. Barbosa was playing an extremely well game blocking whatever came in front of him pretty much guaranteeing the starting goalie spot.

On the pass in Qorbus got the ball at midfield and was once again charging down field on a fast break. He had two of his teammates flagging him on each side going down field. Qorbus was making moves left and right around defenders and was 20 feet from the goal. Out of nowhere The Ducks' defender came from the side closing fast. To his left there was a teammate with a clear shot of the goal but he knew his abilities and decided to keep going.

It all happened so fast. Qorbus broke for the goal, the Ducks' player came from the side sliding in tripping him up and taking the ball throwing it into Rider territory. Zeke couldn't even react, as the ball went into the goal as Naboo took a 20-17 lead.

Zeke Did not like the Rookie, and with this ignorant self-centered action Qorbus just pulled it just fueled the fire even more.

Coach Mothker called a timeout to gather everyone together. As Zeke ran over he saw Mothker totally chewing out Qorbus.

"What hell were you thinking?!? You had two players to pass it to, which maybe possibly have given us the lead and the win. But no you have to pull an ignorant piece of crap play like that. This isn't the Super 16 anymore. Your fancy shmancy moves that won you the Helmsman don't work here. This is where the big boys play, and until you can realize that you are part of a team and you can't do everything your on the bench."

Zeke hadn't seen Mothker this mad since he had made a similar mistake in the GCLA semis his rookie year.

As Zeke was about to head back out to play the last three and a half minutes he saw Qorbus Sulking over to the bench. When he jogged by he said, "Typical rookie mistake. You'll get it next time Shiny."

Zeke couldn't be more happier to have that wannabe Elite Leaguer off his field.

Welcome to the opening kickoff for the 271 Elite League Limmie Season! You've powered through the draft, cleaned up in free agency, and have made adjustments to your franchise that your fans hope will send your team to the promised land.

Remember, only one team will have the honor of holding up the Galactic Cup in victory at the end of the season. Will that team be yours? Let's find out as we head down to the field for our look at this week's match ups!

Key Storylines for Week One:

Can Reggie Dun'lop, who did an amazing job at the Limmie All Star Game on Bespin last year, steer the Chiefs into the win column on the road at Bakura Gardens or will the team's financial instability be too much of a distraction? Will the Miners be able to play effective Limmie after having installed a new coach, several new acquisitions, and handing Alana Glencross a fat new contract?

Later in the day, we head to Onderon where the Elite League is proud to witness two of its newest acquisitions battle it out for their first regular season tilt. The news that Jayla Leed was injured ought to be disheartening to the Force while a relief for her former team who stood her up on draft day to pick someone else in the 271 ELL Draft. Who will prevail in this match up between the PLL power house Thyferra Force and the GCLA champion Onderon Crazy Dragons?

The Rydonni Prime Monarchs were busy in free agency this year in what many analysts are sensing is a strong push to get to the Galactic Cup. Last year the Monarchs suffered two very disheartening back to back losses against the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers that quickly dashed their post season aspirations. They led the league in points scored last year and had a very strong offense. Will they be able to statistically repeat that feat this year with their new acquisitions? Their opponent, the Vandelhelm Jets, won the Galactic Cup two years ago in a bruising match up against the Coruscant Senators. Last season, the Jets were trounced in the Galactic Cup Final in what some people called, 'karma'.

The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, defending Galactic Cup champions, take on the Euceron Storm in what looks to be a relatively cold away game. How will Meredith Chambers respond to the cold on Euceron where historically the Smugglers have not played their best ball? Is their devastating friendly loss to the Druckenwell Marksmen a sign of things to come? Or is it a sign that the new draftees are still having to adjust to the Elite League level of play? Euceron, a team that has struggled in recent years, is looking to knock off the Smugglers at home in what looks to be an exciting match up of two very strong defenses. Will this team finally make a journey to the post season?

The Mando'ade Mercs stunned the galaxy this off season when they announced that they would be recruiting, aruetii also known as outsiders to those of us who don't speak the language, for their franchise. Last year, the Mercs ended up posting a 3-4 record with the league's second ranked offensive attack. They came out firing in the draft with the signing of Mij Katan in a desperate attempt to turn their last ranked defense into a unit worth respecting. That respect may be hard to come by as the incoming Ryloth Rough Riders, runners up in the GCLA championship game, head a young but strong team into the Elite League. Maximus Qorbus, the first pick taken in the 270 ELL Draft, has shown flashes of talent in the friendly game against the Naboo Ducks. The real question that many are asking is: Can Qorbus adjust to the speed of the Elite League?

The inaugural game for a new team, in a "new" ELL stadium. Indeed, the Mercs had indeed been honored by the schedule makers this year. Not only would they help to give this place (and the racous crowd) its first true taste of Elite League Meshgeroya, but the Mercs would also spend the next three weeks on the road as well. At least it meant the final three games would be held in the confines of the Meshla Vhetin. Small comfort indeed, by that time this team, and its fragile new philosophy could be broken beyond repair. Or perhaps hardened into an unstoppable force. Taab naturally hoped for the latter, but either way it would was an excellent challenge upon which to test the Jac-Ral's new way of doing things. What he saw on the field however, did not inspire confidence.

On offense the "new" old look, smashmouth offense seemed back to normal from an up and down season last year. For at least one game the move of Fi from Midfielder to half forward seemed to be working. Now the entire offense was made up of the Null clones and Ryi Kor'le. The athletic group was able to push their way past Rough Rider defenders and Kor'le especially was was getting in her share of points against the Rough Rider's all-star goaltender.

But that was the end of the good news. The defense was again a pourous unit, allowing point after point to an unexpectedly strong offensive output. It was nothing spectacular, but it was proving to be enough. Especially when team aruetii took the field. Jac-ral and Coach Kal's plan was to have the entire team of back ups go in for a few minutes each half to allow the Mercs starters to rest for a bit before coming back refreshed. Even after a full training camp and the one friendly, the game still seemed to be moving too quickly for the backups. There were turnovers, especially from the midfield trying to feed the ball to the forwards. Those led to easy points by the Rough Riders, and put the Mercs in a hole they couldn't recover from.

When all was said and done for the five minutes each half that team aruetii was in the game, no points were scored for the Mercs and the team had a -12 in point differential. Just barely enough to cost them the match. Taab was fuming as he spoke with the GM after the game.

But Jac-Ral didn't back down. When he had found the Nulls several years ago he knew they could form the core of a great meshgeroya squad, but only the core. They would need other players, not just Mandalorian players, to win a championship. It had taken two seasons bereft of the playoffs to convince the team owner of that, but to him the new integration of players was just the first step.

"This is a process, it will take time."

"Time you don't have..." Taab interupted, but Jac-Ral kept going.

"Most of these aruetii won't be here next year. We all knew that going in. This is to be a trial period. To get a small number of them ready for our style of play we had to bring in a large number of players, who we knew couldn't hack it, to fill out the roster. Next year we will have better athletes."

"Jac-Ral, if they keep playing like this, then for you there may not be a next year."

IC: Ryi Kor'leMercs locker room, Kala'unn Memorial Stadium, Ryloth.

Not the way to start off a new season Ryi thought to herself as she removed her plates after the game. The crowd had been riled up to see their first real meshgeroya action and though she had done her best to shut them up, they had only gotten louder as the game went on and for the most part had gone home happy. Sure there had been the ever present Mandalorian contigent in the stands, but once the game had started their cheers had been drowned out. She herself had played a decent game, though she knew she and her vode could do better. Would they have beaten the new Ryloth team if they had stuck to the old system? Maybe, maybe not. But she did know that she and the others on the first team had more energy at the end of the game. They just didn't have enough to bring the game over to their favor. Maybe it would help though as the season wore on.

She looked around the locker room to see how the team was handeling it. The rest of the first team offense was taking it in stride. They had been through this before, it was just one loss. They would have to give it another shot next week. Of course they had the desire to go out and win every game, but at this level those kind of seasons didn't happen very often. Glancing where the defense was dressing she saw another story. She could see that they felt they were the reason for the loss. 27 points was too much to give away in the first game of the season, especially after they had the league's worst defense last season. Kii was taking it especially hard, but her brothers were there trying to comfort her. Ryi didn't want to admit it to herself, but she thought maybe the new kid, Mij, might be a better fit for starting goaltender, but that was a call for Coach Kal.

Her gaze wandered to Vau, the only rookiee to make the first string. He had done well for his first game at this level, earning himself several assits and even an interception, but no points scored. What she saw from him on the field was good, with the potential for greatness, but what she saw from him here in the locker room was trouble. He was sitting in front of his locker, staring across the locker room at fellow rookiee, but second teamer, Lycar Naughten, the Shistavanen. He had missed several goals during his time on the field, and it seemed that Vau was going to confront him about it. Lycar caught Vau's gaze and a low growl emitted from his throat. Something would have to be done.

But Ryi wasn't the only one to see the brewing problem. Beck Thornton, who had become the unofficial captain for team aruetii, stepped in between the two rookiees. "You have something to say meat?" he asked Vau pointedly. Vau stood up, "yah. I..." but that was all he got out. "Shaddup, meat. No one wants to hear it." Vau looked like he was going to say his peace anyway when Kor'le stepped in. "He is right, shut it Vau." Vau's jaw dropped, but he stayed silent. "Listen up everyone." The low drone of private conversations happening throughout the locker room was muted as everyone gave the team captain their attention. "We win and lose as a team." She looked around the locker room. She knew she couldn't convince them all of this yet, she really wasn't convinced of it herself. She knew there were several members of the team that just didn't have what it took. Still she continued on "None of this us or them osik will divide us, we are all Mercs." She looked directly at Vau the defiance burining brightly in his eyes. " And if anyone has a problem with that, they can come to me."

The feeling of the cold bench rushed into Jayla’s body as soon as she sat down on it for the first time in her professional career. The Elite League season was ready to begin, and she was going to be sitting down for most, if not all, of it. The Thyferra Force were making their return to the Elite League after 51 years off, while the Onderon Crazy Dragons were making their league debut. As such, the Onderon fans were going absolutely crazy, ready to see their team play in the highest-ranking league in the galaxy for the first time ever. The Force were ready to make sure that party was going to end real fast.

As the starters ran out onto the field, Jayla watched them with disinterest. What exactly was she supposed to do during the game, anyways? She could probably get some holo footage and watch it, or pick up a headset and look fancy, but she knew that neither was going to help her out here. Ever since she had pulled that hamstring in the exhibition match a month earlier against the Raltiir Starkillers, Kapp Pyston had an easy time retaining his starting goalie position. It seemed like her first practice, in which she had laid out several teammates, was so long ago that it was nothing but a distant memory. How everything had gone so wrong since then.

Tonga Rute, a reserve midfielder and Jayla’s former teammate at the University of Corellia, Bella Vistal, grabbed a cup of Gundarkade and sat down next to the rookie goalie. “First game,” he said, taking a swig of the liquid. “This is going to be a good one.”

“For those of you who get to play,” Jayla said, sulking.

“I’m sure you’ll get that starting job someday,” Tonga replied earnestly. When Jayla didn’t respond, he tried to coax a response out of her. “Hey, I didn’t exactly get a starting spot either. We’re in the same ship without a hyperdrive . . .”

“You’ll still get minutes,” Jayla flat-lined. “I only get minutes in case of an injury, and that won’t happen with pretty boy out there.” She motioned to Kapp as he steeled himself in goal.

“I’ve heard weirder things,” Tonga said. “You’ll get your chance. You just had a tough camp, that’s all. I didn’t do so stellar either, yet here I am, embracing my role. You need to learn from him so that next year you can beat him out for that starting job.”

“Thanks loads,” Jayla spat, sending a stream of spittle onto the ground as she said this.

“Sor-ry,” Tonga said, disgusted by this action. “You need to get control of yourself and just go out there with a positive attitude. That’s what I’m doing. I’m not going to get many minutes today, but I’m going to make the best of them that I can. When you play, and I said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, you have to show the coaches that you deserve that job. The only way to do that is to make them see that you are the best player they have on the roster in goal.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jayla retorted.

Before Tonga could say anything, Sarya Dilvam and Reena Wyley came over. Although they hadn’t gone to the same school, and hadn’t even met each other before the night of the Draft, were now best buddies. Sarya, the Zabrak midfielder ahead of Tonga on the depth chart, said a joke, and she and Reena howled it up.

“What’s so funny?” Tonga asked, taking another sip of his Gundarkade.

“Nothing,” Sarya said. Reena was obviously having a hard time containing her laughter, as she was contorting her face in an odd position to try and maintain a neutral expression.

“Oh come on, you can tell me,” Tonga said.

“Not in a million years,” Sarya said.

“Fine, be that way,” Tonga replied. “So, we’re going up against your old teammate Renhorn today, correct?” he said to Reena.

“Yeah,” the Hapan said. “She was my roommate in college for five years, so it’ll be tough to play against her for the first time. But I know her game better than anyone alive except for herself, so I can play her pretty well. But you two really need to lock her down if she gets hot. Knowing Gayla, she’ll get going fast if you let her. Well, that’s if she’s even really doing anything. I didn’t really focus on the scouting report much this past week . . .”

“What scouting report?” Tonga asked. “There was hardly anything to use, since they’ve never played in the League before.”

“You could have just downloaded their game footage on YooToob,” Sarya said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what I did. Got in some good film session time watching their championship game last year against Ryloth; they’ve got some decent talent there. But so do we, so this will be a good game.”

The game began, and immediately it went in Onderon’s favor. They jumped out to a 6-0 lead in the opening minutes, and never looked back. Despite all of the firepower the Force had on their side, they just couldn’t find the net. Pamjer in goal for the Dragons seemed to turn away every single shot that was put on goal by the Force forwards. Meanwhile, Onderon was running wild in the offensive zone, shredding the Thyferra defense time and again. Pyston was helpless to stop many of the shots, and the scoreboard began to light up time and again for the home team. Jayla liked seeing Pyston struggle, but at the same time she saw this game slipping through her fingers. She didn’t want to lose, even if she was on the bench.

At halftime, the score was Onderon 19, Force 3. The three points for the Force came via reserve forward Boggs Campbell, who had two of the points, and All-Star Riff Persnor. Persnor, the talented Cathar, had been moved to Left Corner Forward to make room for former Numifolis winner Syprul Raches. The Shistavanen had looked rather lost all game, and wasn’t nearly himself. It was probably due to a number of things, but when such a scoring threat like that was having a hard time, it affected the rest of the offense. In the middle of the field, Lai Blutas and Decha Wynas, usually a sold duo, were getting torched repeatedly on both sides of the ball. The Dragons were killing everyone on the Force, and the visiting team had no idea what to do in response. It was a total loss.

The mood in the locker room had been rather sour from the get-go. Although Pamila Korthe was trying to fire her team up and get them ready for the second half, no one seemed to get the message. And things didn’t change when the second half began; although Pyston was stopping more shots, the offense was completely silent.

“What a welcome to the league,” Sarya commented as she watched yet another Force offensive go down in flames. Wylega Zola was nailed in the back and fumbled the ball, which was recovered by Onderon and sent back up the field. Pyston jumped out and knocked the ball out of bounds, but he was clearly exhausted.

“And you said this team would go far . . .” Tonga said to Boggs, who was sitting with them.

“Nothing you can do now,” Boggs replied. “Total loss.”

Coach Korthe finally signaled for the reserves to go in. Jayla stayed put; this sign, from what she knew, meant everyone except goalie. That was the funny thing about goalies; substitutions in game were rare. So she continued to sit as the weary starters came over and hit the bench. “Leed, what are you doing? Get in there!” Korthe yelled when she noticed that her backup goalie hadn’t gotten up. Jayla shot off the bench and ran onto the field without really knowing what was going on. This was her chance to play in an Elite League game, and yet it wasn’t under the glorious circumstances that she thought her first-ever appearance would be under. Instead, this was garbage time, when nothing really mattered because the outcome of the game was already decided. She looked at the clock; eight minutes left in the contest.

Her first test came right out of the gate. Carvin Spork, the third-round draft pick, beat her with a pump fake and then buried a goal into the back of the net as Jayla stood there, frozen. The crowd went wild, and over on the sidelines Jayla caught a glimpse of Jed Ortmeyer, the offensive coordinator, slap a hand to his face. Well, this certainly was going badly already.

When all was said and done, the Force walked off the field on the heels of a 27-3 loss. Jayla kept her head low as she left the field; she had, in only eight minutes, given up seven points. Apparently Onderon didn’t understand that you didn’t run the score up late in a blowout game like this, but Jayla hadn’t exactly done that well, either. She had been beaten so many times out there by reserve players; they had no business walking all over her. Yet they had, and now she had sunk even lower. Pyston had struggled mightily in this one, but Jayla hadn’t exactly shown anything in this game that demonstrated that she deserved a chance to start.

“Tough game,” Tonga said as he caught up to Jayla outside the locker room.

“Shut up,” Jayla said.

When the team finally assembled in the locker room, there was nothing joyous to be heard. All of the players milled around, getting out of their jerseys like they were red hot and throwing them in the laundry heap. Jayla wadded up hers into some semblance of a ball and tossed it onto the ground in disgust. When she took her postgame shower, she didn’t even feel the water hitting her body; all she could think about was Spork beating her. There was no excuse for her to be out of position like that; at UCBV, those kinds of things never happened. She was always in the right spot to make the play. But now everyone, even reserves, were making her look silly. The Elite League was a far cry from the Super 16, and Jayla Leed was starting to come to the realization that she was finding that out the hard way. Qorbus had been benched by Ryloth weeks earlier for his poor play, and now Jayla was finding it hard to get her footing in this league. What they said about the ELL was true; it tested you mentally and physically.

As Jayla boarded the team bus that would get them to their shuttle, she remembered that she hadn’t even said hi to Jenna the entire time they had been here on Onderon. And, frankly, she was glad she hadn’t, because now Jenna was up 1-0 on her. Not exactly the way Jayla wanted to start her career, already beaten by Jenna and now going on the road against a surprising Ryloth team in a hole. And Pyston was once again going to start the next week, so what did she have to gain now? All she did on the short bus ride to the star port was sulk and stare out the window; what else could she do?

It was the first time Jenna was going to see her sister Jayla as a pro, unfortunately she was going to play against each other. Jenna was disappointed that Jayla wasn’t picked in the draft by the Crazy Dragons. Jenna respected her sister even though sometimes they used to fight over small things like clothes and boys. Being the oldest, Jenna won all those fights. It was the basic sibling rivalry that the sisters always had. Deep down they loved one another.

Though Jenna wanted her sister on her team she felt being on a different team would be better for Jayla. She wouldn’t have to be in the shadow of her older sister. She could make a name for herself. It was the start of the game and Jayla was sitting on the bench. Jenna paid no attention afterwards . She had her game face on and nothing was going to distract her from the game. Finally Onderon’s first Elite Limmie game. Jenna was pumped up and ready to go. The whistle blew, Onderon had the ball first . Jayla kicked the ball to midfielder Michael Jaymes. He went after being tackled by a Thyferra Force player named Maff Biskis.

Michael couldn’t stand up on his ankle. He limped to the sideline disappointed in himself for getting injured on the first play of the game. Coach Mckowen turned around and yelled “Renhorn get out there now.” The rookie Gayla Renhorn got up and ran on to the field. She was happy the coach called her out instead ov Aeron Vos who Renhorn couldn’t stand. She laughed inside as he sat on the bench.

Thyferra Force had the ball this time and scored. Jenna couldn’t believe it. “Come on you guys let’s get it together.” Renhorn had the ball this time and made fabulous moves to shake the Force players. She scored to tie up the game at one a piece. Several people on the Onderon team scored after that and the score was ten to three at halftime.

Michael was still nursing his ankle while Jenna was still pumped up as ever. Gayla was just as charged up as Jenna. Coach Mckowen addressed the team. “We have done well on offense but it’s not over yet. Defense let’s hold them off and Midfield be aware of your surroundings.”

When the coach stopped talking Jenna got up and gave the usual pep talk to the team. “Ok you guys let’s go out there and show them we deserve to be in this league.”

“Who are we?” “CRAZY DRAGONS”

“What I can’t hear you?” “CRAZY DRAGONS”

They came out shouting “We are the Crazy Dragons !”

The second half was even better than the first half for the Crazy Dragons. Gayla Renhorn scored two times and almost got in a fight with Maff Biskis. Even rookie Right Half Foward Carvin Spork got in on the action by scoring a goal. Jayla finally got in the game but it was no use. She allowed seven points in eight minutes. Jenna felt for her, but this was Onderon’s time to win.

The Crazy Dragons scored seventeen unanswered points in the second half, while the Thyferra Force was shut out in the second half. The ending score was Onderon twenty-seven and the Thyferra three. It was a glorious beginning for the Crazy Dragons.Jenna and Gayla slapped hi-fives at each other while Jayla went straight to the locker room without saying hi to Jenna.

Pam watched as her starters ran another drill on the half-field available to them during travel. The Force, coming off the smarting season-opening loss to Onderon, was now on their way to meet fellow ELL newcomer Ryloth. In doing so, the team got to ride in style in the Senators’ old shuttle. When Coruscant had folded, Gark S’rily had made sure that the team shuttle had been transferred over to the Force so that it would stay in the organization. Most of the players on the team had been star-struck when they had first seen the shuttle, but the veterans like Syprul Raches, Jerek Deter and Shayt Contar, who had all taken many a ride in the shuttle, got on board without any second thoughts. For them, it was business as usual. However, for the rest of the team, this was quite the ship they had access to.

When the starters finished their drill, Pam had the entire team scrimmage. It wasn’t a ridiculously long trip, but she didn’t want her players getting bored, either. Besides, they needed to hear an earful after that terrible first game. Losing 27-3 to Onderon was not going to cut it, especially with all of the talent the Force had on both sides of the ball. They were dripping with potential; now they needed to put it all together.

Sheila Nightshade, an ELL veteran, made a play on a lethargic-looking Paz, and the ball was taken out to the other end of the field by the defense. This was tallied up as a win for the Defense in the modified scrimmage rules; since they only had half a field to use, if the defense could stop the offense from scoring and could clear the ball to gain possession, then they would “score”. If the offense scored, then they got the corresponding number of points, so whoever had the most points at the end won the scrimmage. Pam shook her head as the defense ratcheted up the pressure and were kicking the crap out of the offense. What had been a close 1-1 tie early was now 7-1 defense. Nightshade, who had just come in in a substitution, whacked Boggs Campbell, causing the Force’s season points leader to fumble the ball. Baul Sdent picked it up and tossed it to the other end. The ball landed softly in the netting that had been placed about where midfield would have been if this was a mini-sized Limmie surface.

“All right, all right,” Pam said, blowing her whistle. Everyone turned around to look at her. “It’s clear to me that you guys aren’t getting it done today. Defense, I needed this effort from you last week; where was it? Offense, what the hell are you all looking around for? You need to attack more. The defense is giving you some space to work in; use it!” She then went over and talked to one of the equipment managers, who then went over to the sound system controls. “Listen up, team. I know that you can do a lot better than this, but it’s obvious that you need some motivation. So, until further notice, if I notice this team not giving 100% in their practices, then I’m going to resort to drastic measures. Namely, play this song.” She motioned to the equipment manager, who switched on the track. Quickly, the practice area was filled with annoying music.

“No! Turn it off!” Boggs yelled. He was obviously displeased by this turn of events.

“You’re the devil,” Jed Ortmeyer flat-lined as he looked at the Zeltron coach.

“If you want to turn it off, then you need to give me some more effort out there,” Pam stated.

It didn’t take long before the players got the hint. Spurred on by the annoying pop music, the offense found that spark that made them so good in the previous two seasons, making the defense work for every point they scored. Syprul beat Sheila with a nice fake, but Kapp Pyston jumped out to block the ball. It went skittering over to the side, where Zadd came over and booted it into the goal for three. Pam smirked; this was unorthodox, but so far her method seemed to be working.

TAG: No One

IC: Riff Persnor

Riff caught the boloball and fired it at the net. His hands were cold on this rather chilly day on Ryloth, in which his Thyferra Force were going to take on the Rough Riders of Ryloth. The feeling of the ball hitting his hands made them sting, but he knew that he was just going to have to play through the nippy air in this one. When shooting practice was over, Riff looked over to the Ryloth side of the field. There was someone over there he needed to talk to . . .

Riff made his way over to that side of the field. Some of the Rough Riders were giving him odd looks, but he didn’t care. Finally, he made it over to the goal area, where he waited for the opportune moment. Finally, when his quarry was in ear shot, Riff yelled: “Hey, it looks like you got your wish!” He didn’t know how Zeke would respond to this, but Riff was sure that the keeper didn’t mind. Or, at least he hoped the Bith didn’t.

Alana petulantly crossed her arms on the couch and stared, hopefully as menacingly as she could. After all, she was looking at a therapist. She was supposed to be good at reading emotions. Let her read this.

The light blue skinned Omwati patiently looked back at Alana. "I'm glad that you were able to come in today, Alana," Dr. Etie Calay said.

"It's not like I had much of a choice," Alana said.

"Of course you had a choice," Dr. Calay said patiently.

"Not if I wanted to keep playing Limmie," Alana retorted.

"You still had a choice. One of the options might not have been appealing, but you could have still chosen it."

"I understand that you're not very interested in being here," Dr. Calay said, "I understand. A number of my patients aren't thrilled their first few times. Just as many of them want to try to resolve whatever issues they have in their lives. Either way, I try to help them as best I can and that's what I'd like to do with you. You know that everything we say in here is confidential, right?" Alana nodded, still displeased. "Dr. Tunross told me that you had some issues in your last game? You were missing routine kicks and tackles? Is that what you felt happened?"

"I had an off game. It happens," Alana said, short in her tone.

"You had another game this past weekend, right?" Dr. Calay said, "Would you tell me about what happened?"

"I played better," Alana said, "so clearly I don't need to be here."

"I didn't watch the game. How about you tell me a little more about it."

"Oh great. My shrink doesn't even watch Limmie," Alana said with a roll of her eyes.

"I know a little something about it. My son plays in high school," Dr. Calay said, "so why don't you just tell me about it and I'll stop you if things aren't making any sense?"

"Fine. So we played the Chiefs. They tend to be a little nasty. It's all the Hansons..."

Bakura Gardens, Salis D'aar, BakuraGameday, the previous weekend

"I swear to Maker, if Jett puts his elbow in my ribs one more time..." Alana growled to Everett.

"That's no way for a Duchess Eldin winner to talk," Everett called back with a huge grin.

Alana shook her head. She was going to get this all season long. She just knew it. Right about now she was wishing that Ryi had won the damn thing just so everyone would be kidding her about it. If Alana had been smart she would have given it to Ryi right there. That would have been sportsmanlike of her.

"Incoming!" Everett called out to get Alana's attention back on the game at hand.

The Chiefs had put together a good gameplan. The two teams were plenty familiar with each other, but the Miners especially knew the Chiefs. The static lineup for Nadiem meant that there was a lot of vid on these players. Of course, things had changed a bit--Cregg and that forward with the unpronounceable name were new for the Chiefs and wild cards, but enough of the rest of the cast was the same. Of course, the Miners were returning most of their starters and that was a good thing--especially in the front six.

There'd been a lot of talk as to whether Cundertol should have brought Autumn Graves back. When he'd extended her the one year contract, nobody was sure if she would take such a short term contract. Commentators on Bakura thought that the Miners needed an upgrade to go to the next level, but others thought that Landa needed Graves, who he'd played his entire Elite League career with, to anchor the other side of the field. As Alana had heard the story, it had been Valerii who had talked to Graves and convinced her to take the one year deal and come back. Despite the offensive woes of the Miners last season, Valerii thought that the starters deserved another shot under the new Rodders-to-full-forward format. The results had been stunning and the Miners were going to town on the rookie Cregg. They looked like a completely different team up front. Rodders was just shredding the rook and once he established himself as a threat he was using that stellar arm to set up Stormborn, who was looking every bit the rookie of the year that she'd been named last season, and Anderson, who was probably playing her best Limmie in a blue and gold uniform ever.

The defense was also holding stronger since the double OT debacle against Corellia. They weren't perfect, but Wizmark and Waters were picking up the schemes better. Wizmark, coming off her near meltdown against the Rebels, at least was holding it together and making more plays, but Alana knew that the back six wasn't where it needed to be yet. The Smugglers had shown how much defense meant in winning championships and they didn't have championship defense yet. Thank the Force that the front six was bailing the team out.

The truth was that the defense would have some of the pressure taken off if she and Everett were stopping more at midfield. And the deeper truth Alana knew was that Everett was playing pretty well. The Chiefs were having more success taking her side of the field and they were getting through. Sloppy tackles, intercepted passes, and ineffectual kicks for Alana's part were still the story. She'd at least made a couple of penalty kicks to get on the scoreboard this time, but that wasn't enough. Alana was the captain, she needed to be better.

And here was her next chance. Ogeeogilthorrp, the Wookiee that Alana had laid out last season in Char'les'ton, was coming up the field with the ball, barreling down the pitch in that typical Wookiee way. Well Alana was going to show him. She stepped up on the Wookiee, lowered her shoulder and--

BAM!

Alana hit the grass and Ogeeogilthorrp kept going. Alana pounded the turf in frustration. "Come on!" Alana said, the comment directed at herself more than anyone else. She got up on her feet and joined the play again. She had to work harder, be better. She was captain. She had to lead. That was her job. People were counting on her. Alana took off running down the field, determined to do something to make up for letting the Wook beat her.

Ogeeogilthorrp was looking to pass and Alana read the field. Tuttle had dropped back and was in the high offensive zone to get some distance from the Miner defense and maybe set up a play. That's where the Wookiee would go if he was smart and if you played in the Elite League, you weren't stupid. Sure enough, Ogeeogilthorrp stopped, planted his feet, and passed--right into Alana's hands for an interception. Alana skidded to a halt, set her feet, and hurled the ball back up the field where Landa caught it. He made to punt it for a point, but instead passed to Anderson who headed the ball past a badly out of position Cregg.

Alana gave a single pump of the fist and jogged back to her position, high fiving North on the way. That was much better.

Dr. Calay nodded. "All right, I think that's enough for today."

Alana tilted her head. "Wait, what?"

"I'll see you next week when you get back from Onderon," Calay said, turning off her datapad.

"Don't you want to tell me 'what's wrong with me'?" Alana said, making quotation marks with her fingers, "Or tell me that I need to take some meds or go apologize to everyone I've wronged in my life?"

"No," Dr. Calay said, "We're just getting to know each other."

"So that's it for today?" Alana asked skeptically.

"Yes. Good luck on Onderon. I'll make it a point to watch the game," Dr. Calay said.

"Okay...thanks," Alana said as she stood and left. She really wasn't sure what to make of all this. She wasn't sure at all...

Maybe that was one of those reverse psychology tricks, Alana realized. Maybe this shrink was sneakier than she thought...

Brief Biography:“Being a general manager is more than assembling a talented roster capable of winning multiple Galactic Cups. It is more than contract negotiations and salaries. It is more than staying ahead of the competition. Honestly, being a general manager is all about being able to read people. You do that, and you do it well, and the entire galaxy of talent opens up to you.” –Rhia Grames

Vincent Cutter was hired on by the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers as the replacement to the venerable and talented Rhia Grames. Hailing from Ord Mantell, where he played some ball with the Scrappers in his youth, Cutter was exactly the kind of person the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers needed to hire to lift the franchise into a new era of Limmie, an era where the old guard was facing extinction and incoming teams were finding new and more innovative ways to improve their squads.

Cutter sharpened his teeth while pursuing a degree in sports management at Enarc Tech University. While at ETU, he played a little college ball before admitting that he wasn't much of an athlete. Rather, Cutter liked the strategic side of Limmie. The deadly side. Cutter devoted all of his energies to making ETU's college program a success, especially after his graduation. First starting of as a scout, Cutter rose up the ranks and wound up being the man responsible for the acquisition of new talent to the team. Though his program was never on the same level as Chandrila A & M's, University of Kuat, or The Ord Sabaok University, Vincent was proud of the talent he did offer up to the Premiere League and the Elite League. His hard work eventually caught the eye of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.

Gone are the days of solely recruiting talent from the Vertical City. The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers have charted a new course under Vincent Cutter. One that promises galaxy wide recruitment, competitive salaries, and a by all means approach to keep the franchise operating at peak efficiency and performance.

Team: Thyferra ForceName: Jayla LeedSpecies: HumanGender: FemaleBirth Year: 249 ABY Physical appearance:
(Picture is in Library thread)Homeworld: CorelliaRelation to Team: GoalkeeperBrief Biography:Jayla Leed is the younger sister of Jenna Leed who plays for the Onderon Crazy Dragons in the GCLA. Bolo-ball runs in her family. Jayla’s father once coached the Corellia Rebels from the Elite Limmie League. Now was her turn to show what she is made of. She enrolled at the University of Corellia and was accepted with a full scholarship.

All her life she had to live up to the pressure of being the daughter of a well known coach and the sister who made it to the all-star game. She has done well for herself by playing with alot of guts. She earned her job as a starter and received the respect of her teammates and coaches. Now that she is a Junior she is far more relaxed at her position of Goalkeeper, When she was a Freshman she struggled a bit but finally got the hang of it. Enough so that she was placed as a starter in her Sophomore year.

Her father and her sister couldn’t have been more proud. Jayla has always looked up to her big sister Jenna. She can not wait till she gets in to the Elite Limmie League. She knows it’s a hard and long journey, but she is willing to go all the way. It’s the way her father taught her.

After leading the Renegades to the Super 16 Championship Game, Jayla's Renegades fell just short to the Destroyers of the University of Kuat. After this defeat, Jayla decided to skip her senior season and enter the first-ever Elite League draft. She hoped to join Jenna as a member of Onderon, but the Crazy Dragons didn't pick her in the Draft with the #2 pick. Jayla was eventually picked up at #4 by the Thyferra Force to be the backup for incumbent starter Kapp Pyston, but Jayla despises being on the bench. Additionally, she harbors resentment for Onderon for not selecting her, and is determined to show the Dragons how wrong they were in not drafting her.

Ogeeogilthorrp, the big Wookiee, could see Glencross preparing to line him up. He wasn't going to be embarrassed by the little red-head again. He didn't care how cute she was...for a Human, that is. As she stepped into him, Ogee went barreling through. She hit the ground and Ogee kept going. He chuckled as he continued down the field.

As the game progressed, Coach Reg Dun'lop closely examined the play of his newcomers, Ike Arooz-Yoni and Jinn Cregg. The two had done well for the Kashyyyk Rangers in the minor leagues, but the Elite League was a step up. Apparently a big step up...

Arooz-Yoni didn't get any points the whole game. And Cregg didn't look any better than Qatak Lemeiux in net. The GM and other "higher-ups" in the Chiefs organization won't like those performances. But they were rookies in the ELL, after all. They had to understand that. Plus, they're playing with a whole new team and a whole different style of play. It may take a few games to get fully settled in to the Chiefs.

The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, despite their solid Limmie play over the last three years, were not a cold weather team. The problem, simply put, was that the Vertical City never had any weather. The players never had to get used to slippery fields or enormous puddles of water, or play a full game in the freezing cold. Euceron on the other hand was well equipped to handle real world weather. The home team had the advantage and played well throughout much of the first half, filled with loads of Smuggler
mistakes.

The new draft class of the Smugglers was showing flashes of talent as the second half commenced. George Edwards and Xander Darkrider, teammates in college, made a few solid plays but also showed their lack of preparation for the speed of the pro game. On one particularly nasty mistake, Darkrider had sent a rocket to Mel Rypen that was overthrown and caught by one of the Storm defenders. The Storm, using the inclement weather to their advantage, were able to score three points to put their team ahead 25-20.

2:38.

That was how much time was left on the clock and the moment when the game, and potentially the rest of the season, turned for the worse. The moment when the Smugglers fans closed their eyes, whispered a collective curse, and felt as if their souls had been sucked right out of them. Chills could be felt all throughout the Vertical City. Traffic literally came to a halt as news broke out on the Vertical City Network. Nar Shaddaa was dead quiet.
Meredith Chambers had been injured and was now out for the rest of the season. She had torn an ACL in her right knee while leaping to block a high shot. The image of her crying out in pain, clutching her leg, on the muddy surface of Euceron’s home stadium was heart wrenching. A stellar career had just come to a screeching halt.

Suddenly, Vincent Cutter’s job as the General Manager of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers became far more difficult.

Who would replace Chambers?

One week later.

Cutter stood before the media. Felt nearly blinded by the flashes of the holocameras. knew that his team was reeling from their loss to the Storm, from the loss of one of their most important leaders. He knew the Smugglers didn’t have a deep bench, especially at goalkeeper. All throughout the draft, Cutter told that little nagging voice inside of him to keep in mind a reserve goalkeeper to train under Chambers, just in case the poodoo hit the fan. Truth was, the draft had been weak in that regard and the top prospects were scooped up by more hungry teams.

Here he was. Addressing the media and about to introduce the newest goalkeeper of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. That was the way the Limmie gods had rolled the dice. Now, it was his turn to give fate the nastiest hook he had.

“With great pleasure, I am proud to introduce the newest goalkeeper of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers,” Cutter growled as the media crooned and took photos.

“Without further ado, the Smugglers organization is proud to introduce, Gunba Pemiti, as the new goalkeeper,” Cutter said.

The media looked like they had been slapped in the face. Punched, to be more accurate as they reeled from the news that one of the more serviceable goalies in the galaxy, who hadn’t played a game of Limmie in more than eight years, had just been called out of the grave to play for one of the Outer Rim’s premiere franchises.

Pemiti was serviceable. She had been the one to take Meredith Chambers under her wing during the 261 season, the season that she suffered what was thought to be a season ending concussion. That same year, the Smugglers went on to win the Galactic Cup against the undefeated Mon Calamari Mariners. That had been a game for the ages. A defensive dogfight between two Outer Rim clubs, two very dangerous franchises.

“She’s too old!” Complained one of the reporters.

“She hasn’t taken a snap in what, a decade?” Cried out another.

“You’ve lost it, Cutter, you’re driving your team into the ground!”

Cutter listened to the reporters whine and moan. He had heard this all before. In fact, it greatly amused him. When they were done pulling their hair out, Cutter began to laugh.

“Enjoy the rest of the season. I know I will,” Cutter said with a smile as Gunba waved a fin at the media.

Stepping backstage, Cutter whispered to Gunba. “Nice work out there. You ready to put on the uniform again?”

“Always. I’ve been keeping myself in shape these past eight years with the Mon Calamari Mariners,” Pemiti replied.

IC: Marte NaloLocation: Nalo home, Eusebus, EuceronTime: One day before Week 2 home game against Mercs

"Tendra! Jado!"

"What?" they both said at once.

"You need more than aaaa-choo!... more than a t-shirt and shorts to go outside or else you're going to get sick like Dad. It's only nineteen degrees out there."

"But Mom said it was okay!" Tendra said.

"Well, then I'm going to have a talk with your mother." Marte pushed himself out of the recliner and looked toward the kitchen. "Jaria! Have you gone crazy?" He heard the sound of the back door opening and closing, then Jaria appeared from the kitchen in a tank top and shorts. He sighed. "Apparently the answer to that is yes."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Summer clothes when it's not even twenty degrees out? The whole family's going to be sick."

"Have you looked at the back door thermometer? It's twenty-seven in the sun. We'll be fine. If the weather's going to make us sick, it's going to do it from constantly changing. Which is probably inevitable no matter what, so why worry?"

Marte collapsed back into the recliner. "Whatever." The kids ran out the back door, with Jaria following them and telling them to walk. Marte flipped the HoloNet on and found a local weather channel. Tomorrow—game day—was forecasted to reach 21°C, excellent weather for limmie. Too bad Marte wouldn't be able to call the game. Two days after that, the high would only be 12°C with a low the next night below zero and a chance of snow. By next weekend, though, for the Onderon game, it was supposed to be back up around 20°C.

He coughed again, then shook his head. Typical Eusebus weather. It was commonly said among locals that if you didn't like the weather, give it five minutes and it would change. That may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but it wasn't too far from the truth. The constantly changing weather tended to make people sick; both Elke Andwol and Asha Martell were listed as doubtful due to illness on the Storm's injury report this week.

Speaking of the Storm, Marte was rather pleased with how well the new rookies had integrated themselves into the team against the Smugglers. Asyel Yan'ii had particularly impressed him with two goals and three points over the bar. Beating the defending Galactic Cup Champions to open the season was a strong statement, but it also set the bar high. The Storm would have to work hard to show that that was not a fluke.

In the meantime, though, Marte coughed again as he silently cursed the weather. He'd get some rest this weekend and hopefully be back in the booth next weekend. For now, though, he headed for the refresher to get another dose of the cough medicine.

OOC: Not an Elite League post, but I never said I would let Gark fade into oblivion.

Gark S’rilyScrapper Park, Ord Mantell

“Hey, keep your heads up out there!” Gark shouted as his players as the Scrappers brought the ball up the field. The Bothan’s Wroona Islanders, playing in their first-ever road game, were finding themselves tangled up with the Scrappers of Ord Mantell. Gark had never forgiven the Scrappers for bouncing his Senators out of the playoffs many seasons earlier, and a win right here would go a long way towards easing that pain. In their franchise debut the week earlier at home in front of all the cameras, the Islanders, stacked with former Senators players, had looked rusty in a 13-6 victory over the Bestine Suns. Polis Vayne had scored seven of the 13 points for the Islanders, but in general the team looked sluggish. They not only were missing several players who were now on the Thyferra Force in the Elite League, but they were breaking in new blood on both sides of the ball. Crell VanDerven, the former Ingbrand nominee whom had fallen out of favor on Kuat the season before, had signed on at Left Corner Forward to try and get his career back on track. Needless to say, he was struggling mightily so far, and Gark wondered if signing him was the right thing to do. VanDerven seemed to be on the downside of his career, and this might be his last stop before finally giving up the game. Only time would tell on that.

Saram Golyxi made a nice play on the Scrapper forward, causing the ball to squirt free. Tanner Selanno, another former ELL player, came over to pick it up. He then tossed it out to Alysha Romax. Romax caught the ball and sidestepped her counterpart for Ord Mantell. She then charged towards the goal, her hair flying in the wind as she went. It seemed like the sea of bodies parted to make way for her as she came through, courtesy of picks from Polis and a Wroonian reserve. She pitched the ball back in her windup, and then burned the Scrapper goalie with a blistering shot that snapped into the back of the net. 3 points for Romax, 5-1 Islanders. Gark clapped his hands together; that was what he expected from Alysha when she got the ball out in space. The midfielder was met by her teammates and congratulated for that goal; it had been quite the sight.

By the time the game ended, it was Wroona 20, Ord Mantell 2. An easy win for the Islanders for sure, but that was to be expected from the experienced group. The starters had all played well; the Scrappers hadn’t been able to find any running room in the offensive zone, and their defense had been stout but couldn’t contain the furious offensive onslaught of the Islanders. The middle of the field had been completely dominated by Romax and her fellow middies, making their counterparts look foolish time and again out there. Venn Sto, a former Ingbrand nominee himself, had looked solid in goal, only allowing two points on his way to his second victory of the season. Overall, a good game.

“I want to congratulate you on today’s win,” Gark said to his team in the locker room. “However, there are still a lot of things that we can work on. Offense, you still look a little timid out there. I know that we should have blown these guys out by 30 today had we been firing on all cylinders like we’re capable of. But we have another week of practice to work out those inconsistencies; remember, this team is new, and we’re still getting used to playing together. Consistency will come with time. We have Telerath coming up, in a rivalry game. It’s called the ‘Beachhead Brawl’, and all I know is that this is supposed to be our biggest game of the season. It’ll be on the road, so we’ll have to be prepared for a hostile crowd. But I know that we can go in there and pick up an easy win just like we did today. Team dismissed.” The team began to mill around, changing out of their game jerseys and into their street clothes. Dirxx Horstse, the Besalisk captain who had followed Gark to the Islanders, came up.

“Not a bad game, eh?” he said, grinning.

“Not bad at all,” Gark said. “But it’s still a long season. We need to stay focused and make sure that we don’t let up on the pressure. If we do, then we might lapse. Those rookies are going to take a while to come around, so I need you and the rest of the starting lineup to stay consistent.”

“Like there’s a question about that,” Dirxx said, shaking his head. “I thought you knew us well enough by now.”

“Just stay hungry out there,” Gark replied. “That’s all I’m asking. If we do that, we should win the championship this season.”

“Any word on the status of the . . . franchise?” Drixx asked.

“Not yet,” Gark said. “I haven’t had a chance to contact the League yet, but I will soon. I want that franchise as badly as you do, and I won’t quit until I get it back.”

“Good to know,” Dirxx said, leaving Gark alone once again. Gark had to hand it to the Besalisk; he played with pride, no matter if it was for the Senators or the Islanders. But this whole lower-league was nagging on the Bothan; it was nice being here as a huge favorite to win the league title, but that also made it less fun. He couldn’t wait for a return to the Elite League. Whether he was able to get the Senators back, or if he had to take the Islanders there, remained to be seen. There was still a lot yet to be determined.

As the speeder came up to the stadium, Jimmi looked out, completely agape. The grandstands arched high into the air, almost never ending. When he got out and had paid the driver, Jimmi began to walk around the stadium with a slow gait. This was beautiful; he, the washed-up former Limmie player turned high school chemistry teacher was now back in his element.

A security guard noticed Jimmi and sauntered over. “Hey, you lookin’ for something?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“Uh . . . I’m with the Force . . .” Jimmi said, showing his new badge to get him into the stadium.

“Ah, right this way, then,” the guard said. He escorted Jimmi through a gate, which was then locked behind him, and then led down a long tunnel to the locker room. “The team’s not quite here yet, so you’re free to look around.” With that, the guard left, leaving Jimmi alone once again. Again, he couldn’t believe his eyes; here he was, finally getting a taste of the Big Show. Even though the locker room at the stadium wasn’t the greatest he had ever seen, it made every minor league locker room he had ever been in look like a complete dump. He made his way to the far back, where he hoped to find an empty locker to use.

Each of the lockers had a jersey, cleats and shorts hanging on hook. As he passed each one, Jimmi stared at the names. Leed, Contar, Nightshade, Dumerville. All big names, and now he would be sharing the field with them. Finally, he made it to the back, where he was able to see a uniform with “Moryss” stitched into the back. Jimmi spent several seconds staring at the jersey; was he dreaming? This was an Elite League uniform, and it was his and his alone. He reached out and touched the fabric; unlike his other uniforms, this one wasn’t rough on the edges or missing little bits and pieces. No, this was pristine uniform fabric. Setting his bag down, he put the jersey over his blue blazer; it was a perfect fit. Going over to a mirror, he stared at himself. Man he looked scruffy . . . oh, and the jersey looked fantastic on him.

Then, he heard the door open, and Jimmi swiveled around. A Cathar came into the room and walked over to a locker. He sat down and began to fiddle with the items in the locker when he noticed that he was being watched. His head swiveled around to look at Jimmi. “Hi,” he said.

“Uh . . . hi,” Jimmi replied.

“You the old man we just signed?” the Cathar asked.

“How many old men get signed to play Limmie?” Jimmi asked.

The Cathar chuckled. “That’s funny,” he said. Finally, he got up and extended a hand to Jimmi when he got near enough to do so. “I’m Riff Persnor. I play Left Corner Forward.”

“Yeah, I recognize you now,” Jimmi said. “You played in that All-Star Game last season, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, that was me,” Riff said, nodding.

“You were the one who dislocated the nose.”

“Geez, I wish people would stop bringing that up,” Riff said, frowning.

“Sorry,” Jimmi said. “I guess I just got a little too excited. This is my first gig at this level. Two weeks ago, I was at a tryout, and now I’m here.”

“So, what brings you here?” Riff asked. He went back over to his locker and began to clean out his Limmie cleats.

“I promised my team I would try out if they won district,” Jimmi said.

“Team?” Riff asked.

“Yeah, High School,” Jimmi said. “I’m a chemistry teacher normally. Have been ever since the surgeries.”

“A school teacher?” Riff said. “Ugh, that makes me hate you even more. Nah, just kidding. But you must have played Limmie before. I mean, you don’t just get signed by a team because you can teach chemical equations . . .”

“I played Limmie once,” Jimmi replied. “I was a star in high school, and then I had a solid career in college. I was supposed to be a big star, but I never made it. Had a lot of injuries in my short career, and quite a few surgeries. I still have the scars. So I retired and gave myself no excuses to hold onto. Thus, I found a new job teaching high school students, never once looking back. But then my Limmie team, which was a complete joke for decades, finally gave me an option. Win district, and I would try out for a team. Any team. Well, they went out and won district, and I went to a tryout. I figured the scouts wouldn’t want an old man, but apparently they like my arm speed. Old men usually don’t throw as fast as I do,” he said, chuckling.

“Anyways, I bounced around minor league ball and the semi-pro leagues, and finally one day they came up to me and asked if I wanted to take a contract for a Winter league. I signed on, and apparently I did well enough there to earn a contract here. Nothing fancy about it; no junior league product, no nothing, really. I’m just a chemistry teacher out here playing Limmie because I promised a bunch of high school kids that I’d give it one last shot.”

“I bet,” Jimmi said. Just looking around the locker room, it already felt like home. This was all he had ever dreamed of doing for a long, long time. And now he got to play in the Elite League; how many chemistry teachers could say they had done that? “Hunter’s real excited to hear that I’ve made it.”

“Who’s he?” Riff asked.

“My son,” Jimmi said. “He’s just like me; wants to play Limmie in the pros during his life. I kept telling him that there was no way I’d make it, but here I am, sitting in a locker room with an All-Star. Not bad.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Riff said, nodding once again. “Yeah, kids can be rather impressionable. I certainly was when I was a kid. Always wanted to play with the bolo-ball; that’s all I ever really did. Probably should have done more of my homework in my younger days, but it was a way to get off the streets. Limmie gave me structure, and now I’m here talking to an old guy who grades papers . . . and then going to have to play alongside him. That’s weird, you know?”

“I know,” Jimmi said. “I know.”

Other players began to file into the locker room, and Jimmi was soon immersed in the activity of the whole scene. It was a beautiful sight to behold, that was for sure.